


Warm Apple Pie

by Auggusst



Series: The Soldier And The Scientist [47]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Apple Pie, Apples, Baking, Banter, Cute, Fluff, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Public Display of Affection, September - Freeform, apple picking, fall - Freeform, steve rogers bakes, upstate ny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auggusst/pseuds/Auggusst
Summary: Steve and Tony drive upstate and go apple picking so Steve can bake a pie. The pie turns out almost as good as the nice day they have together.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: The Soldier And The Scientist [47]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/468745
Comments: 18
Kudos: 115





	Warm Apple Pie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imperialstark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperialstark/gifts).



> lowkey based this place off of the Burrville Cider Mill up here where I live lmao. I've never been bc it gets WAY too packed but everyone is obsessed with it
> 
> This is the 50th piece I've written for The Soldier And The Scientist! I never thought I'd end up with so many fics when I wrote the first one back in 2014 or 15. Thanks so much to everyone who reads and comments on these fics and enjoys them! Special thanks to all my readers who have been here for a long time, I really appreciate you <3
> 
> I'm gifting this fic to Imperialstark because she's an amazing writer herself who deserves way more attention and she always makes my day. Thanks for being my friend <3 You're the Rhodey to my Tony!

The car door shut with a light _thud_ at his side, and Tony slipped on his prescription sunglasses, adjusted his cardigan, straightened the collar of his sweater. “I can’t believe you convinced me to come out here,” he said, taking in the view.

A handful of leaves under Steve’s ankle boots crinkled and crunched as he walked around the car to Tony’s side, stuck the keys in the pocket of his brown leather jacket. “Come on. You said you wanted to get away from the lake house, and you didn’t wanna go to the city. This is a change of scenery,” the blond replied.

Tony couldn’t argue with that. It was definitely a change.

They normally didn’t go this far upstate, let alone do something as rustic as apple picking, but Steve was right. Tony wanted to see or do something a little out of the ordinary. He’d been in a little bit of a creative slump lately, struggling with his latest inventions, drafting and erasing and rewriting concepts so many times that they were piling up in the metaphorical recycle bin, so he thought an interruption in his schedule would do the trick, get his brain back on track.

It had been kind of a long drive to get here, but the weather was good and there wasn’t any urgent business to attend to, so they could take the time, explore the state they called home. Tony, and Steve at this point, had been around the world, had seen and experienced a lot of different things, but New York had a certain charm about it, one that people grew to love. Tony still thought he preferred the West Coast sometimes, but he didn’t foresee himself moving back to Malibu, or to California in general. He was content where they lived now, and would be content at the new facility, when it was finally finished being built.

He looked around again, took in the slowly yellowing leaves on the trees, the slight, crisp breeze in the air, the nearby rushing of water. There must have been a waterfall nearby, or a river at least, but he couldn’t see it past the old building ahead of them, and the foliage surrounding it. The orchard was surely on the other side, hidden from view, as well as the source of rushing water. It seemed interesting enough of a place, small and cute, and long-standing.

There wasn’t much upstate in the way of big cities, or even entertainment from what he’d seen, but there were places like this, the occasional thriving local business that became a staple for nearby communities. The orchard and cider mill here was a local favorite, according to google, and had the best fresh apple cider in the state. Steve had found it after a few minutes of searching, and Tony agreed to check it out, intent on either proving or disproving the claim.

The blond thought a bucket of fresh apples and baked goods would do them both good too. The weather was getting colder, and winter would be here soon, and Steve had a few recipes he wanted to try out, wanted to perfect before the weather got too cold to go out and do things.

The place seemed nice enough, simplistic and charming in a way different than most of the shops down in Manhattan, or even Brooklyn. There was a hand painted sign above the door, and an informational board at its side, announcing that this was its 78th year of business.

Tony felt oddly like a tourist, looking out the window during the drive, and he felt like a tourist standing in front of their destination too. The lake house was out of the way too, but still close enough to the city that the occasional high rise building and the other commonplace establishments of a city weren’t out of reach. Here, they were practically nonexistent, replaced by small, original homes, some with small yards, picket fences, and others obscured by acres of trees or wide open fields, barn houses and farms. He got the sense that the pace here was a lot different, a lot slower than downstate.

He also got the sense that boredom must run rampant here, but he kept that thought to himself, tried to focus on the pretty scene this late September day had provided.

“I guess,” Tony said, and held out his hand for Steve to take. He intertwined their fingers, his arm curled around Steve’s so they were closer together. “As long as I get some pie out of this at the end of the night.”

“That depends on how many apples you help me pick,” Steve said, squeezing his hand.

The parking lot was relatively empty; they’d chosen a good day to come here. It didn’t seem like they’d have any trouble picking a good bunch of apples. Tony was glad it wouldn’t be crowded here. He didn’t normally mind a bit of a crowd, but today, he had a lot on his mind, a lot of frustration he wanted to smooth away. He hoped this little trip, picking apples, would help him with that.

“You’re the taller one. You should be picking all the apples,” Tony pointed out, though it was just a joke.

“Then I guess I’ll be the only one eating pie tonight,” Steve replied without missing a beat. He was just teasing, but his tone was serious enough.

“You’re cruel, Rogers.”

Steve leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek as they walked to the entrance. “I know. I’m practically a villain,” he said, deadpan.

Tony let out a huff, but couldn’t help but smile a little at the kiss.

A few minutes later, they were paying the entrance fee and headed out the back door of the building towards the orchard. There was a small gift shop and bakery inside near the front desk, as well as a sitting area. There was a family or two already enjoying lunch, and two or three people working.

The girl at the front desk was young, maybe eighteen or nineteen, the youngest in a long line of family employees. Her excitement was palpable, as well as her disbelief, her eyes wide and the smile fighting its way on to her face when she saw them. It wasn’t every day Captain America and Iron Man walked into your local job, so the hype was understandable. She was too polite to ask it as she rung up their entrance fee, though Steve could sense the words on the tip of her tongue.

“Do you want a picture?” the soldier asked after Tony slid a few dollars across the counter, reading her mind.

She nodded enthusiastically.

But Steve had opened a can of worms with that question, because the handful of kids on the other side of the building wanted to get in on the action too, so it was only fair that everyone got a picture. If the crowd was any bigger, it might have been annoying, but it was just a small group of people, and besides, they were never in this part of the state, so it was only natural it’d cause some excitement. Tony made them all promise not to put their photos on social media until the next day, when they were already home again. He didn’t want this quiet little field trip turning into a big event with people showing up just for a photo op. That being said, he didn’t mind interacting with fans out of the blue. They always seemed so happy, seeing him and Steve. He was glad to bring people a little happiness.

Also, Steve holding him close, flashing a brilliant smile and laughing was always a plus. They’d been in public together thousands of times, had appeared in thousands of photos together, but there was something about it that still made Tony’s heart flutter a little, made him proud. Steve was _his_ , even after their extreme rough patch, after facing astronomical odds. He hoped he’d never lose him. The last few months had been a welcome relief, a reprieve from years of stress and fear, and they’d grown closer, understood each other better than before. He wanted to hold on to that relief as long as he could.

A few minutes later and the small crowd receded, and Steve pulled the scientist by the hand to the back door, so they could proceed with their plans. The backside of the building was even more idyllic than Tony anticipated. The source of the water was finally identified; there was a large mill attached to the building, its spokes digging into the water, and a bit further down the path he could see a waterfall. He didn’t know much about the cider making process, but assumed it was quite a hassle from that sight alone. He could appreciate the environment though, and so did Steve. He thought it’d be nice to sketch a place like this sometime.

The blond seemed relaxed, content as they walked along the path towards the orchard. The path was a little muddy; it must have rained a few days ago, and Tony mourned the integrity of his shoes, but he had so many pairs it wouldn’t matter if this pair got mucked up a little. He tried not to let it bother him. Instead he took in the view, remained open-minded.

The young woman at the front desk said there’d be baskets available at the orchard to fill and bring back. Sure enough, at the entrance to the orchard stood a pile of large wooden baskets, neatly stacked. When they made it there, Tony picked one up, inspected it for a moment, and turned to look at the soldier.

“Lead the way, Captain,” he said, nodding towards the rows of trees ahead of them.

They were a pretty good size, had obviously been growing for years. There were tons of apples hanging on the eaves, and some on the ground too; it seemed to be a good year for harvesting, which after all of the misfortune the world had suffered, the changes it had gone through since The Battle, was promising. It meant better days were on the horizon for everyone, or at least, Tony tried to believe that.

“Which one of these looks the best to you?” Steve asked as they walked down the first row. He wasn’t sure exactly which tree to pick, which one suited him the best.

Tony shrugged. “Don’t know. Green things are more your thing, plants and I don’t mix.”

“Technically these aren’t green anymore, they’re becoming yellow,” the blond replied, flashing him a smile.

Tony rolled his eyes, shook his head. “You’re so annoying,” he complained, though it wasn’t serious.

“I know,” Steve replied. He stopped at a tree to his left, braced his hands on his hips and looked it up and down. “This one looks good,” he said.

It really did. The trunk was thick and a rich brown, with lots of swirling ridges in its bark. The branches fanned out pretty far compared to some of the other trees, and the apples peeking out between leaves looked large and healthy. They’d be perfect.

Tony raised a brow, looked up at the tree in question. He didn’t see anything extraordinary about it, but if Steve liked it, that was good enough for him. It was kind of tall though; he wasn’t sure how many he’d be able to pick. The scientist glanced around. Didn’t these types of places usually have ladders standing around? People brought their kids apple picking, and kids were a lot shorter than Tony. He couldn’t see one though.

“It also looks really tall,” the brunet pointed out, his lips twisting into something like a frown.

“That’s only because you’re so short,” Steve countered, rubbing his back affectionately.

“I’m _not_ short,” Tony insisted, frowning up at him. “I’m average height. It’s not my fault you’re a freak of nature.”

“Thor is a freak of nature,” the blond said. “I’m a perfectly normal height. 6’2” isn’t _that_ tall.”

“And 5’9 isn’t _that_ short,” Tony insisted. Hell, thanks to the shoes he wore outside of the house, he was even taller, standing at 5’11” when appearing publicly.

Steve didn’t seem convinced, but didn’t press the subject any further. No need to start an argument about it—He liked Tony’s height as it was, because he fit perfectly in Steve’s arms that way, but Tony had always been a little sensitive about it. Steve couldn’t blame him; before he’d gotten the serum, he was an embarrassing 5’4” so he wasn’t a stranger to short jokes or being looked down on, literally.

He gently stroked the tufts of hair at the nape of his partner’s neck, and stepped towards the tree. “Just pick as many as you can. I’ll handle the ones higher up.”

“How many are we taking?” Tony asked, glancing down at the basket in his arms. “Feels like we could feed the whole team with pies if we fill this up.”

“Maybe we should,” Steve replied, shrugging a little. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it. I’ve been meaning to give Sam a visit, and you’ve got Rhodey coming over on Sunday.”

“Lasagna and apple pie?” the brunet said, unconvinced. “Don’t know how well those two mix.”

Steve shook his head, tugged an apple from the tree and tossed it in the basket. “Doesn’t have to be a pie,” he said. “There’s plenty of desserts we can whip up.”

“You can do the whipping,” Tony said, setting the basket down so he could join Steve. “Both figuratively and literally. I can’t get the hang of baking.”

“Rocket science is easy for you, but you can’t seem to bake a decent cake. You’ve always been an enigma,” Steve said.

Tony got up on his toes, plucked an apple from the tree. “Rocket science is easy, following logic, math, and clean-cut directions. It’s not as complicated as baking.”

Steve grinned, shook his head in disbelief. “Baking involves following logic, math, and clean-cut directions,” he said, snagging two more apples, placing them in the basket.

“On the surface level, maybe, but who follows a recipe to the T? There’s…I don’t know. There’s a lot more to it. You can tell when someone really bakes. It just tastes special.”

Tony thought Steve’s baking was special. It wasn’t the best he’d ever had, because he doubted anything would come close to his old nanny Jarvis’s food, but it was plenty good. Tony had to be careful with it; he’d gladly gorge himself on the blond’s desserts every day, but then he’d have to work out more to make up for it, and he hated exercising enough as it was.

The soldier could agree with that sentiment. Certain people did bring a kind of magic to their food, a kind of love. Tony shouldn’t have excluded himself from that sentiment though. Whenever he cooked, specifically his mom’s old recipes like he was going to this weekend, it also had a kind of magic. He always had to make massive portions, because Steve packed away a lot of food in general, but especially his favorites. Tony never seemed to mind, and despite his insistence on hating being in the kitchen, Steve could see the joy it brought him when someone appreciated his food.

“You’re right,” Steve said finally, dropping more apples in their basket. “I guess it can be kind of hard.”

“Mhm,” Tony said. He’d picked another four, the last one requiring him stretch up pretty far. Looking around the tree it was a little hard to see any more at his level.

He made a face. Tony had hoped there’d be a lot more apples available before his height would become a problem. The basket was only half full and he didn’t want to stand around awkwardly while Steve did all the work, and claiming another tree felt kind of stupid.

“Shit,” he sighed, put a hand on his hip. He really didn’t want to pull a back muscle straining for apples either.

It took Steve all of two seconds to figure out the problem, as he dropped his latest apple in the basket. He did his best to hide how entertaining it was. Tony looked disgruntled, which wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the sight was also endearing.

He looked handsome, as always, commanded the room so to speak, even though they were outside. The sun was still shining, illuminating his face between the leaves, especially when he took his sunglasses off specifically to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He looked _healthy_ , his skin a warm tone and the signs of sickness, of pain and injury he exhibited after wielding the gauntlet a few months ago were almost completely gone, despite their lasting effects. His maroon cardigan and his black sweater and jeans complimented his body and the environment, painted a lovely picture.

Steve loved him. He loved him so much.

“Come here, you,” the blond said, adjusting his jacket and walking to Tony’s side. He slipped an arm around Tony’s waist, lifted his chin.

Tony’s frown didn’t disappear until he caught sight of Steve’s eyes, took in the affection there, the tenderness. The hand not holding his sunglasses settled on Steve’s chest, and he didn’t protest in the slightest (never dreamed of it) when Steve leaned down a little to capture his lips. Tony’s irritation evaporated as quick as it came, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders like it always did when he was in Steve’s arms. He let the kiss go on for a bit, relished it, like he did every kiss.

“This is all your fault,” he said against Steve’s lips, tugging on the collar of his jacket.

“It isn’t, but you can believe that if you want,” Steve replied, pulling Tony more firmly against him. His second hand joined the other on the brunet’s back. “Besides, I think I’ve got a solution.”

Tony barely had time to raise an inquisitive brow before his feet weren’t touching the ground anymore, Steve’s hands dipping under him before he could protest and sweeping him into his arms. Tony’s heart jumped a little at having his center of gravity shifted like that, and he almost dropped his sunglasses in his haste to get his arms around Steve’s shoulders, his legs around the soldier’s waist.

“Are you kidding me right now?” he complained, slipping his sunglasses back on. He couldn’t help but let out a breathless laugh though.

As the years went on, Steve had become a lot less shy about PDA. Tony still remembered the first time they’d held hands in public, how Steve’s face went red, his smile timid but pleased. That was a long way away from where they were now, with the blond physically lifting Tony into his arms like he did on occasion in the house when he was feeling extra happy, or after a mission, when his relief was palpable.

The shift had come after their separation. Tony supposed Steve didn’t want to waste any more time with social hang-ups. He was glad they were together, and didn’t care who knew. Tony still managed to feel a little embarrassed now though, and couldn’t help but look around to see if anyone was there. He heard some talking and kids laughing a few rows away, but not close enough that they’d be intruded on.

“I am serious,” Steve replied, hoisting Tony up a little higher. It took little effort of course, and he glanced up at the brunet. “Pick some more apples,” he ordered.

“This is humiliating,” Tony sighed as Steve took a few steps, got him closer to the tree. He pulled off another apple, leaned over a little to let it fall in the basket.

“I’m sure you’ve suffered worse.”

He definitely had, but he still wanted to complain a little. “You’re lucky no one’s around to take pictures right now.”

“I’m sure everyone would love to see them,” the blond said. “I know I would.”

“You’re cruel,” the scientist huffed, stretching to pick another two apples. He let them tumble into the basket. It was pretty full now—just a few more to round out the number gathered.

“You’ve said that already today,” Steve pointed out, smug grin on his face.

“Keep it up, Rogers, and you’ll be sleeping on the couch,” Tony threatened, narrowing his eyes at his partner. They were hidden by his sunglasses, but his eyebrows got the expression across.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said with a chuckle. “I’ll make it up to you when we get home with these. I’ll even buy you something from the gift shop.”

“And the bakery,” Tony added.

“Deal.”

They filled the basket.

Steve lowered Tony to a more comfortable height as he dropped the last one in the basket, but didn’t set him down. Instead he kissed him again, deeper than was probably appropriate for being outside, but Tony didn’t seem to mind. Steve’s hands tightened where they grasped his cardigan, as if he didn’t want to let go. He kissed with quiet desperation, with purpose, whether he admitted it or not. Tony slung an arm around his shoulder, cradled the back of his head with the other. He kissed him back sweetly, expertly, let him take his time, drink his fill.

Eventually he drew back for breath a little, but followed up with a final short kiss. “What’s gotten into you?” Tony murmured. He wasn’t teasing this time; he could sense something shift in Steve’s attitude.

Steve’s face was a little more somber, his eyes—god, they were so beautiful— deep enough to drown in. The sun made his hair that much more golden, and a gentle breeze blew by, sweeping it back a little. Tony could have stared at him for hours, sometimes did. He took as many opportunities as possible throughout the day to stare at Steve. Even though the man sometimes irritated him, caused him plenty of grief over the years, he’d never been able to find a view that left him so content.

“Nothing,” Steve replied, a little breathlessly. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Tony insisted. He brushed a hand through the soldier’s hair soothingly. “What’s wrong?”

Steve shrugged a little, tried to avert his gaze. Tony flipped his sunglasses up though, set them on his head so he could look at Steve directly, and Steve could never resist those dark brown eyes, the long, sweeping lashes framing them. There were a few more wrinkles around them than when they met, and so close, Steve could see the grays in his hair, the signs of slow aging, but he never minded. He never _would_ mind.

He took a second to think of a response. “Just…worry, I guess. Or regret maybe. I don’t know…”

“What for?” the scientist asked.

Steve set him down gently, framed his hips with his big hands. Tony rubbed his arm, tried to coax more words out of him.

“For everything that happened, between us. The Accords, Siberia, all…all that time afterwards. I’m so happy now—and I hope you’re happy too, but sometimes I just…I can’t help but think about it all. It haunts me.”

Tony swallowed hard at that, nodded a little.

He knew the feeling. He wasn’t a stranger to shame. He had more shame than most people accumulated in their entire lifetime, more guilt too, especially when it came to his relationship with Steve, with the ups and downs they’d suffered. He tried not to think about those days, about waking up miserable every day, crying so many tears they were impossible to count. He tried not to think about how much it hurt, knowing he had fucked up, knowing Steve had fucked up too, and lacking the courage to fix it. It was bad enough he dreamt about it on occasion, and Steve seemed to as well.

Steve had chosen the right word.

Tony _did_ feel haunted. He wasn’t sure either of them could ever truly leave behind those ghosts. The knowledge was always there, in the background. No matter how comfortable they got or how much time had passed, the memory was there, and so was the fear of a repeat. He wasn’t sure they could get over that feeling. They had to try though, right?

“Me too,” the brunet said finally. “It…none of that should’ve happened. We should have been smarter,” he said. “But we weren’t. We made a lot of mistakes, and some of them still fuck me up, and you too, apparently. But it’s in the past, sweetheart. The important thing is that we don’t fuck it up again.”

The soldier agreed with that. “I don’t intend to,” Steve replied, pulling him a little closer. “I’m so lucky to have you. I’m…I’m really thankful we’re together.”

Tony smiled brightly at him, gently cupped his cheek. “I’m thankful too.”

They took a second, just to really look at each other, to let it all sink in. They had a lot to be thankful for, and hoped never to take it for granted. Eventually they broke eye contact and Tony smiled a little, slipped his glasses back on and looked at their basket.

“Well, we better go pay for these and get those gifts you promised me.”

Steve bent down, lifted the basket into his arms with ease. “After you,” he said.

The tiny bakery was surprisingly impressive. Of course they had their selection of apple-flavored pastries, but they weren’t limited strictly. There were a lot of mixtures and unique flavors, reasonably priced too, so Steve understood why this place had its local claim to fame. He wasn’t in a mood for a pastry himself, but gladly tried a cup of apple cider. According to the employees, it was the best north of Albany, and he was inclined to agree. Tony got himself an apple cider donut, and judging by the little moan he let out when he took a first bite, it was plenty good too.

They walked around the gift shop a little. There wasn’t anything too interesting; Tony supposed all gift shops were the same, filled with postcards, little books, stuffed animals, and mugs. It was cute enough though, and he could tell the owners put in time with a few custom pieces like signs or paintings. They even had custom-made Adirondack chairs available. Tony ended up picking a little fridge magnet; they had plenty of room on theirs, and already had too many coffee mugs to count in the house. They also bought a jug of apple cider to take home, and of course, left a massive tip for the young woman working at the front desk.

“So?” Steve started as he loaded their apples and cider in the trunk of the car. The trunk shut with a _thud_ and he wiped his hands, straightened the cuffs of his jacket.

“So what?” Tony replied, pulling open his door. He turned to raise a brow at Steve.

“Was the change of scenery good?” Steve knew damn well it was, because Tony’s normally serious, somewhat irritated expression was softened, a little happier. He was definitely more relaxed than when they left the house this morning. Steve hoped that their excursion would be enough to get his mind back on track, to help get those creative juices flowing again. He was sure it was, but had to ask anyways.

Tony considered the question as he settled in the car. “Well I don’t wanna live up here or anything, but it was nice.” The brunet reached in the glove box, traded his sunglasses for his regular glasses. “Cute little business. I can see why they do well.”

“A change of pace, for sure,” Steve replied as he sat in the driver’s seat. “I wouldn’t want to live up here either though,” he admitted, looking out the window. “I’d miss the city.”

“I couldn’t imagine having to drive 6 hours to reach Manhattan,” Tony agreed, buckling up. “I mean, what do people _do_ around here?”

“Apparently, what we just did,” the soldier replied. “Nice to do once in a while, but I wouldn’t want to rely on it. The city can get crazy, and I’m glad we don’t live _in_ it anymore, but a little craziness is nice to have. Museums, festivals, even the occasional gala we’re sucked in to. I think I’d go a little stir crazy without them.”

Tony agreed. The lake house was a nice balance of it all. It was out of the way, but close enough to their friends and the city that boredom was never an issue. Where they were was exactly right for them these days. The brunet nodded a little. “You said it, honey.”

Steve turned the key in the ignition. “Ready for home?”

Tony stuck their new fridge magnet in the pocket of his cardigan, got a little comfier. “Ready for home,” he agreed.

Later that night, Tony found himself perched on Steve’s lap, snuggled up on the couch with a fresh slice of warm apple pie and a scoop of ice cream on his plate and an old movie playing on the TV. The pie was _damn_ good, but the small, serene smile on Steve’s lips, the way his hands wrapped around Tony, stroked his side lovingly was even better. Tony scooped up a little piece of pie from his plate, fed it to his partner before giving himself another mouthful.

It was just sweet enough, with the cinnamon sprinkled over the top standing out but not being too overpowering. The vanilla ice cream was already melting a little, which made for the best gooey, warm bite of pie imaginable. There were few better simple pleasures in life, honestly. The scientist had helped peel the apples for the filling, but other than that, it was all thanks to Steve that he had this wonderful dessert. Steve didn’t bake _that_ often, which made moments like this that much better. Tony was grateful for it.

The soldier made no protest being fed a bite. He savored it, considered it a moment, and seemed satisfied with his hard work, nodded a little to himself.

“So?” Tony asked, watching him intently. “Are you happy?”

Steve looked at him, the depth in his blue eyes expressing a lifetime’s worth of relief. “I am,” he said. “I really am.”


End file.
